Dear John
by AshleighAishwarya
Summary: Inspired by Taylor Swift's "Dear John". Julia reflects on the day she met 'John'.


**Hi all! Ashleigh Aishwarya here again ;) Here's my new one shot, and I promise this one WILL remain as a oneshot! XD This was inspired by a song called "Dear John" by Taylor Swift. It's off her new album "Speak Now". I've listened to this song a couple of times, but when I heard it again today, BLAM! I got hit by inspiration! Thankfully, it didn't hit me hard, so I'm okay. No broken bones! ;) So this is something I came up with. I hope you guys like it! **

**Dedicated to these wonderful people!**

**CSI Haylz (My sister & partner in crime),**

**lilgenious,**

**daxy,**

**furryfurbi **

**Roots4Miami **

**You guys are awesome on the highest level! Thank you guys so much! :D And also thank you to those who have read and reviewed the other one-shots and my series, "Alessa Monica Caine"! :D :D**

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**CSI: Miami – Horatio & Julia – "Dear John"**

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_**{**From Julia's point of view**}**_

"_Long were the nights when my days once revolved around you  
Counting my footsteps praying the floor won't fall through again  
And my mother accused me of losing my mind  
But I swore I was fine"_

I don't know how long I've been here in this hospital. I don't even want to know. Everyday, all I could think about was my son, Kyle.

Kyle.

He should be 19 right now, right? Yeah. 19. From what John told me,

he was now in the US Army. I didn't like it. It was dangerous. Why didn't John talk him out of it?

No wait. Silly me. It's not John.

_Horatio Caine._

I kept forgetting. His name wasn't John. It was Horatio Caine. I liked it. I met him again 16 years later under unlikely circumstances. The death of my husband. They told me the Lieutenant is charge wanted to speak to me. His name was Horatio Caine. I went to the crime scene to meet him. On my way there, I heard _his_ voice. I knew it was John. The voice was deep, husky and calm. Very familiar. Very _deceiving._ Well, to me it was.

I slowly slipped through the doorway. His back was facing me. He had red hair which shone a brighter orange in the sunlight. I knew who it was then: his posture, the way he looked down at his hands.

John Walden.

"I'm over here, John." I called out.

Slowly, as if he was afraid to look, he turned his head to face me. I saw the astonished look on his face. He was simply dumbfounded. He couldn't believe it.

"But that's not your name, is it? It's Horatio Caine." I got a better view of him.

Bit by bit, he turned his whole body to face me.

All I could think about was one thing: he was still as good-looking as ever. Even at that age. His beautiful baby-blue eyes… oh my. I couldn't help but say the next words: "I like it." It's true. When all this while, I wonder how a wonderful man like him could have a simple name like "John Walden", I was a little suspicious. Horatio Caine suited him impeccably like a glove.

While getting the list of clients for him, I started to replay the day I met him in my mind. 1990. Pensacola, Florida. It was a rainy July night. I was trying to get a cab back to the Fairfield Hotel, but to no avail. I had had one too many drinks. I was a complete mess. I was getting wet in the rain too.

Then, that's when I met _him._

He stopped his car when he saw me staggering and wobbling. "Miss?" He called out and got out of his car. "Miss, are you okay?" He asked with so much concern.

"Uh yeah." I was still somewhat able to tell what was going on. "I'm just…" I massaged my forehead. "Think I had one too many drinks."

"Well, it's dangerous to walk around at this time of the night in his weather! Where are you staying?" He inquired.

"Uuh… the Fairfield Hotel." I responded.

"I'm staying there too. Hop in. I'll give you a ride." He offered.

I could tell he wasn't interested in me. He wasn't interested in taking advantage of my drunken state. He just wanted to make sure I get back safely.

He threw my arm over his neck and wrapped the other around my waist. He was gentle with me. With his help, I got into the passenger seat.

"Do you have your room key with you?" He asked, as we stood outside my room door. Well, _he _stood. Even with his help, I was barely standing.

"Yeah I do." I sluggishly went through my handbag. He took it from my hand and unlocked the door. He switched on the lights and sat me down onto the sofa.

I barely had my eyes open. When I opened them a little more, I got a better look at him.

"Miss?"

What I saw was a red-headed, blue eyed young man who was unbelievably cute. He was slightly built, wearing a black coat with a grey t-shirt. He was kneeling down in front of me. "Yeah?"

"Is there anything you need?" He asked, like a waiter.

"Uh no. No. Thank you." I thanked.

"It's no big deal. You need to get some rest now. Are you fine on your own?"

"I'm good." I nodded with a little smile. My head was pounding like a drum. "I'm okay. Really. Thank you so much."

He smiled just a little. "Okay. My name's John Walden. I'm staying just on the hall. Room 34. If you need anything." He said.

"Okay." I wanted this guy out of here so I could just fall asleep. "Thank you." I repeated.

With a little nod, he got up from kneeling and exited my room, closing the door behind him. I clutched the pillow and rested my head on it. Closing my eyes and curling up in the sofa, the last face I was seeing in my mind was that redhead. And I liked his style.

I got up the next morning with a bad headache. No surprise there. I made myself an uplifting cup of coffee. I was still thinking about the redhead. What was him name again? Oh yeah. John. John Walden. Room 34, right? I had to thank him again. Without him, God knows what would have happened to me.

I dressed in a little black dress. Simple, but stylish. I exited my room then headed over to his room. He'd better be in there. All this styling up was _not _going to go to waste.

I knocked on his door. I heard some activity going on. He was in. He opened the door and I was looking at the same cute redhead from last night. This time, he was wearing a light blue t-shirt to match those eyes of his.

"Miss! Can I help you?" He politely asked, flashing a smile.

That smile took my breath away, but I managed to speak. "Yes, you can. First, you can invite me in."

He smiled again and opened the door wider. "Come in."

I entered into his room. It was neat. Except for the table. He must have been doing some paperwork when I knocked.

"Second," I turned to face him. "I want to thank you for your help last night. I'm treating you to dinner tonight. No excuses." I firmly said, with a smile.

He raised his eyebrows. He knew I was being serious. And I was. "Well," He started out. "I would, but only… if you tell me your name. I can't be calling you 'Miss' all the way."

I realized that I hadn't told him my name. "Julia. Julia Eberly." I held out my hand in handshake.

He took my hand and he shook it. His touch was gentle, as if he didn't want to hurt me.

"7 o' clock. Ace's restaurant. Don't be late."

"I won't." He promised. "7 o' clock." He smiled again.

Little did I know, I was about to make a mistake. I shouldn't have gotten close to him. But everything about him was drawing me towards him like a magnet. Especially during dinner. He wore a red t-shirt this time, which perfectly matched my red dress. He was wearing cologne too. Hugo Boss element. I recognised it. It was practically _made_ for him, I can tell. I was hypnotised by the sound of his voice and his eyes. But he was a good listener. Not much of a talker. I liked it. A man who doesn't like to talk about himself. He told me he was staying at the hotel for some business trip, and that he was staying about for 6 months.

We went out for about 2 more months after that. We were already getting closer and closer each time we went out. Everyday, he would bring me a sunflower, packaged with his smile.

Then I made the biggest mistake one night. It was just one night. I didn't think that it mattered. Neither did he. But I found out I was pregnant. He was in his own room then. I was in my room, crying in the bathroom. Immediately after I managed to simmer down, I quickly packed my belongings. I couldn't stay here anymore. I wrote John a little letter. On my way out, I slipped it under his door, and then ran as fast I could to check out.

I didn't know how he reacted to my letter, but all I know was this: I bawled for days. "I'm really sorry, John!" I cried out to no one. "I'm really sorry…"

Kyle was born about 9 months later. He was so beautiful and cute. _Just like his father._ Everything about him was John; His eyes, the hair, the 'I'm not afraid' attitude. Except that he's stubborn, just like me.

Horatio and Kyle would have had been inseparable. The ultimate father and son team. We could've been the perfect family. If only I had told Horatio, maybe things would've been different. Things would've been wonderful. But this was the decision I made, now I have to live with it._  
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"Dear John, I see it all now that you're gone_  
_Don't you think I was too young to be messed with?_  
_The girl in the dress cried the whole way home"_

_"Dear John, I see it all now it was wrong_  
_Don't you think nineteen's too young to be played with?_  
_Your dark twisted games when I loved you so_  
_I should've known"_

Dear John,

I'm sorry.


End file.
